


Wanting

by Syri



Category: Cain Saga and Godchild
Genre: Edging, Incest, M/M, Teasing, dubcon, no regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 10:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11011560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syri/pseuds/Syri
Summary: Loneliness drives Jezabel to his fathers bed, because warmth is warmth, no matter how he gets it.





	Wanting

Jezabel knew, on some level, that this was wrong. Even a murderer couldn't feign ignorance to societies natural laws. To lie with ones own sex was itself a grave enough sin; to lie with ones own blood was a wretched offense indeed. Jezabel knew this but he could rarely force himself to give a damn. Loneliness was a compelling demon, and it drove him once more to wander the long hallway to his fathers room that night, carrying with him an oil lamp. Their home had been wired for electricity as soon as such a luxury was available for London's elite, but so late at night, Jezabel didn't want to draw any undue attention to himself. He already felt conspicuous as he eased down the hall like a ghost, his long white dressing gown catching the light from his lantern, dying the linen and his loose, pale hair a riot of amber and orange. Nerves shaking his body, he ran a hand over his shoulder and through his hair, tossing the barely-damp mass to separate out a few of his waves, willing it to dry just a little more in the 100 or so feet left till he reached his fathers room. It was unavoidable though, he'd HAD to have a bath; father preferred him clean and smelling like mint and rosewater, a rinse he used for his hair. Though memories that far back were hazy, Jezabel was quite certain it was the same scent his mother had used. 

As he neared the carved double doors to his fathers suite, he continued to fiddle with his hair nervously, twisting one coil around his fingers, tugging it just hard enough to hurt. He was rarely turned away, but it...it was always different, when he approached father, compared to when father called for him instead. For the latter, Jezabel was free from the guilt of lust, the sin of wanting. Following orders, being obedient, following the Lord's commandments, those were the only crimes he could be tried for! But when it was he who went to his fathers room to offer himself for company, then there was always the risk of being branded a harlot. True to his name, father might chide. His pretty little whore.

Fine. That was fine. He was lonely and desperate and he needed this. Letting his hair fall back against his breast, he raised one still shaking fist and knocked lightly upon Father's door. Within a moment there was shuffling, footsteps shifting between thick carpet and polished hardwood, and finally the latch to his door unlocking, swinging open.

Jezabel knew it only added to both his sins and his mental psychosis, but God he thought his father was handsome. Even as a child, innocent and ignorant of the ways he would someday fall, he had looked at his fathers strong back, dark hair, sharp jaw, and hoped fervently he might grow up to look even a little more like him! Alas, he had taken very squarely after his mother; average height for a man, ashen blonde waves now clouded with gray, pale eyes that shone almost violet in the light, not far from Elizabeth's clear blue. Hannah and Lydia both had light eyes as well...now was not the time to think of his sisters though. If he did, he would be reminded that it was their blood as well as his own that he was about to sully.

"Evening, child, are you lost?" Alexis said with just the slightest crinkle to the corners of his eyes.

Jezabel trembled as he forced in a lungful of air.

"No, sir...I couldn't sleep, and I wondered if you might...want company," he offered, hoping that he looked enticing and flirtatious, desirable rather than awkward. He could count the times he'd approached father on two hands and still have fingers left over.

Standing still beneath his fathers roving gaze had grown easier over the years, far easier than when he was around 16 and first noticed the man staring. Remarks would follow, about his hair, about his weight, about his skin or how his clothes lay across certain parts of his body. A year later he'd put Jezabel to his knees beneath his desk, offering a new way to attain his fathers salvation, and ever since it had been a semi-regular part of his life, whether he wanted it or not.

His only solution was to want it.

"...I could use a distraction from my work," Alexis said with an oily smile, backing away just enough to let Jezabel squeeze past him and through the door. Alexis seemed to have no qualms about Jezabel being seen' the fact that he was fucking his own son was hardly a Delilah secret. Unruly boys needed to be minded, after all.

Jezabel stood quietly as Alexis latched the door again, securely, and tested it before turning back to look at his son. Having sat down his lantern, unneeded in the electric glow of the bedroom, Jezabel stood demurely, wondering if it had been a good idea to have his gown buttoned clear up to the collar. The young doctor really couldn't win; if he approached modest and reserved, he might be called a liar, but half-undressed and he was a sinful tease. Tonight, at least, Alexis seemed to be wanting a lay enough to not taunt him too harshly.

"Couldn't sleep, hm? You weren't lying up touching yourself were you?" he accused, reminding Jezabel of an occasion a decade past where Alexis, not allowing Jezabel to lock his bedroom door, had walked in on him in a very personally intimate moment.

Thinking quickly and trying to hide the shame in his face, Jezabel just returned, "If I had been, isn't it the proper thing to do, to find you to finish me off?"

"That mouth of yours is just proof of your poor breeding," Alexis quipped, taking his glasses off for a moment to polish them against the front of his shirt; his collar was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, waistcoat long cast aside.

Ignoring the temptation to remind Alexis that he was, in fact, half of that breeding, Jezabel just smiled with tight lips and dark eyes behind his own glasses.

"You don't complain about this mouth of mine when you busy it with certain tasks," he reminded his father, his heart beating wildly in his chest at daring to be so bold, so forthright with his desires. Truth be told, no, he hadn't been touching himself at all that night, but that didn't mean he hadn't begun to swell in his drawers on his way down. "If you dislike how I speak, Father, you could hush me."

That beating heart went, somehow, even faster as Alexis replaced his glasses, set his hands into his pockets and stepped forward softly, his quiet steps making barely a sound across the plush Persian carpet. Jezabel swallowed with difficulty, trying to calm his breath, trying to not wonder if maybe he had made a very grave mistake that night.

Alexis finally stopped before him, so close that a deep breath from both might have them touching, and once more Jezabel felt his father's eyes graze up and down his clothed body, and, finally, his hands followed. Wordless, he swept his right hand to the collar of Jezabel's dressing gown, pressing it aside. Cream linen whispered down his arm as it rubbed against the nightgown underneath, tugging at his hair slightly as Alexis tugged down the other side as well. Though he was no less covered, Jezabel felt, somehow, already more exposed, to say nothing of how his pulse quickened as Alexis reached up to start the row of buttons from his collar.

"You come in here," he said quietly, peering through his glasses at each tiny button as it flicked open, "Looking like a pretty little Christian bride on her wedding night, all in white and beige, like some kind of virgin, when I know very WELL you are not."

"You're the one who took it from me," Jezabel pointed out, realizing too late that such a statement could be read as biting, scathing, accusatory. Indeed, Alexis's green eyes flickered up from Jezabel's throat to his own eyes, carefully appraising his sons tone.

"I did. It was mine to take, wasn't it?" He asked, and Jezabel couldn't trust himself to answer. He just left hi face neutral and hoped Alexis couldn't feel his fear-fast heart as he continued to unbutton his gown. One at a time, one inch at a time the skin on his chest became exposed to the cool bedroom air, silver scars against pale skin, slightly pink near his clavicle from anxiety, from a rising lust. 

"Such a pretty thing," he pressed on, getting to the top of his belly, where the scars branched off beneath each set of ribs, the bottom bones of which were easily visible through his skin. "Your slut mother left you her good looks, at least." Silence continued to be Jezabel's choice of reaction; Alexis didn't seem to care for this.

"What, Jezabel, nothing to say? Suddenly struck mute?" he teased, his hand leaving the pearl buttons long enough to scrape one fingernail up Jezabel's breastbone. He shivered, but still couldn't unlock his throat to speak. Just as well for Alexis, it seemed, as the next second his hand was clenched around Jezabel's jaw, squeezing bruise-tight and forcing his mouth open with a gasp. Where words were absent, Alexis pressed in, sealing his own lips against Jezabels, forcing them further open to make room for his tongue. Jezabel gasped, both from the sudden kiss and the pain in his jaw, but that only served to open his mouth wider, letting his father have all the access he'd want. He knew how to relax into a kiss, and he willed himself to do so, savoring this. It was what he wanted, after all, his fathers love.

Alexis held him firm, and ran his tongue along Jezabel's bottom lip, past his teeth, and against his own tongue, lathing it with just the tip and enticing him to play the game. Fine, that's what he wanted. Reaching up to grab a fistful of his father's shirt for support, Jezabel pressed himself onto the balls of his feet, drawing himself closer, pressing his mouth closer to Alexis's and his tongue against his lips. It was promptly bitten, and he tried to pull back, but the hand on his jaw and, now, an arm around the small of his back kept him firmly in place. Such was where he belonged in this dance. With a noise that sounded decidedly like a laugh, Alexis pressed their tongues together again, gently lathing the bite and enticing his child to keep. playing. 

"What, Jezabel, can't take a little nip?" he asked, pulling back just enough that his lips brushed Jezabel's as he spoke. Jezabel just whimpered, pressed himself flush to Alexis's front, tried to calm his terror at feeling his father's obvious an growing erection and tried to capture the kiss once more. Alexis's hand was firm, though, and he kept Jezabel far enough away to make the kiss open mouth, lips just barely grazing, tongues wet for a messy, panting kiss. Alexis kept his eyes open, so Jezabel did as well, his breath coming quicker as Alexis too-slowly traced his bottom lip once more.

"I can feel your pulse," he informed him, breath ghosting Jezabels hot, damp mouth. "It's racing, child. Are you lustful?"

"I want fucked, if that's what you're asking."

"Sluts always want fucked, don't they."

"...I am only as you made me," he whispered back, and he sighed as his father returned to the buttons on his gown, finally undoing enough of them to slide it from his bare skin, leaving him standing in just his drawers. Which were very obviously tented in the front.

"Take those off," Alexis instructed, and to Jezabel's surprise he turned away, going back to his writing desk, and sat down. Gaping, Jezabel ignored the instructions, till Alexis added a sharp, "Now, Jezabel!"

Fine, fine, he scurried to obey, pulling the drawstring loose and sliding them down his narrow hips, having to tug them out in font to free his hardened cock.

"Now, lie on the bed, there, legs spread," Jezabel obeyed, trying to not feel like a window display as Alexis hungrily drank in the details of his sons naked, aroused body. "I have both a letter and a glass of wine to finish, so you lie there like a good boy, get yourself ready for me."

"Sir, I'm already hard-"

"You're an adult, Jezabel, I'm sure you know what to do with that, then. But if you come before I get to you, I'll flay the skin off your ass, understood?"

He nodded hesitantly, because questions were dangerous.

"Good boy. You know where the oil is." and with that, Alexis made himself comfortable, picking his pen up again to finish whatever he was working on. Not wanting to be yelled at again, Jezabel reached underneath the bed to a wooden box, where Alexis kept not only oil, but lengths of silk, chains, and a balm made from ginger that burned like hot metal against the skin, especially in more delicate areas. He sought out the bottle of oil, pressed the rest of the toy chest back out of sight, hoping his father wouldn't want to get into it, and uncapped the bottle. Looking back up at Alexis, he let little dribble out onto his fingers, replaced the cap, and reclined back on one elbow. The first touch to his neglected, overheated cock was cool and delicious, and he couldn't help the small, cooing gasp that left his kiss-swollen lips. He let his fingers trail over the shaft idly, tracing the bulging vein up to just below the head, and then down again, to the soft skin around his groin. With another sigh he cupped his balls, rolling them gently in the palm of his hand, squeezing gently, pulling just enough to ache a little. Though he was loathe to admit it out loud, he knew both his father and Cassandra knew he liked a little pain with sex. Just...just a little.

"I better not look up to see you've stopped," Alexis said over the scratch of his pen, and Jezabel nodded, dry-mouthed, and returned his hand to his cock. Loosely he made a circle with his thumb and two fingers and stroked upwards slowly, then down at the same pace, skin barely slipping against skin. He didn't know how long Alexis would take to finish his chore, and he was already hard and needy when he walked in. Both the threat of a lashing and the un-named threat of what would happen if he stopped weighed heavily on him, and kept his hand moving. Agonizingly slow circles were traced around the ridge, sliding the foreskin just a little. He didn't want to spend too much time there; the head was sensitive, he knew he couldn't tease himself there very long...yet the desire to touch there was growing.

As his arm grew tired, he reclined back all the way, gazing up at the ceiling unfocused as he stroked his cock, and somewhere along the way his left hand found its way to his chest, slowly circling his left nipple. Another soft gasp, a nail drug along the sensitive bud, his hips twisting on the sheets, his spread legs surely providing a wonderful show for Alexis.

"F...Father? Are you nearly done?" He asked after temptation proved too much and he had to circle two fingers over the engorged head, sweeping up a large bead of precum as he did so.

"Not yet," was the only answer he got, and he groaned in response. "Don't stop touching, Jezabel. Show me how bad you want me, child."

Jezabel took several deep breaths, and returned his hand down to his balls, squeezing, pulling, rolling, SURE that he couldn't become more aroused just from that, he couldn't come from that...and maybe that was right, but it didn't stop the growing ache, and it didn't stop his wandering hand from reaching down a little further, swiping a wet, lubed middle finger against his opening. Was father watching right now? He didn't dare sit up to see as he pressed the finger slowly into his ass. If he hadn't been watching before, surely the loud moan Jezabel let out would draw his attention. Right after, he lifted his lips up, to allow himself better access, to finger himself deeper-

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Jezabel? I know you, I've seen you reach orgasm just from being fucked. You come before I touch you, and it's the same as if you stop. I'll beat you till you can't sit for three days."

'Like I hold up any better after having your cock up my ass,' he thought dryly, and just continued to finger himself. Ass, cock, didn't matter, both were edging him closer and closer, especially with how tight he pinched his nipples, how his wrist kept sliding against the swollen head of his dick-!

"God!" he cried, pulling both hands away from his body as he got far too close to coming; his dick throbbed, the head now a deep red color at being denied release. "Father, it hurts..." he whimpered.

"Not done yet, Jezabel," he called uncareingly. Jezabel whined in an undignified way, but he didn't care. Still, he had no choice; he wrapped his hand loosely around his length once more, gripping as loose as he dared and gave himself several more slow, languid strokes. Far too quickly he was edging again, and had to draw back to just fondling his sack, now almost as swollen as his cock. Twice more he was far too close to coming before Alexis finally stood, and made very quick work with the fly of his trousers.

"What a mess; all oil and precum and sweat; I'd hardly be able to tell if you came at all, if not for how sensitive your cock gets once you do."

Jezabel just panted and finally dared to pull his hand away from his weeping member, though his other still rubbed and played with his nipple. He couldn't help it, his chest was always sensitive. Jezabel watched with heavy eyes as Alexis opened the front of his drawers, freeing his own thicker cock, and gave it a few solid pulls. As though he needed it; he was already almost as hard as Jezabel. 

"Just look at you," Alexis continued, one hand stroking himself and the other reaching to remove Jezabel's glasses from his flushed face. "Tell Daddy want you want, child."

"To come," he all but begged. The slap across his face was sharp but not unexpected.

"Selfish bitch. Try again. What do you want?"

"...Fucked," he whispered, rolling his hips to try and spread his legs further. "Please, I want you to fuck me...use me..." He wouldn't dare tell Alexis what it really was he wanted. Warmth, contact, this facsimile of love. Playing bride was better than being ignored in whole. 

"That's better." With his face still stinging, Jezabel was quickly distracted from that pain by a fist in his hair, yanking him sideways onto the bed, and then rolled over. He clenched his eyes against the pain, and when he opened them again, he blushed deep; he was facing his father's dressing mirror now, and looked ever bit a harlot, spread out, cock achingly hard against his belly, hair mussed and face red.

"That's my pretty little boy, hm?" Alexis asked, and in the mirror Jezabel watched Alexis uncap the oil and spread it liberally along his cock, without even taking his pants off all the way. The contrast of his neat clothing against Jezabel's bare, glistening skin just shamed him more, and he laid his head down to bury his face.

"Look up," Alexis barked, his voice cutting over the sound of his hand over his slick cock. Jezabel didn't want to. He didn't want to watch this, but his father's fist in his hair was a good motivator.

"I said, look up. Look at what a pretty little thing you are, hard for me, aching for me," he laughed softly. "Do you understand how sick that is, Jezabel? To want your own father to fuck you so badly? I? I made you, I formed your body, I deserve access to it, but for you to be such a lustful bitch?"

"...Just put it in," Jezabel groaned, trying to avoid seeing himself in the mirror.

For once, Alexis obliged. Listing Jezabel's top leg, he eased himself behind his son and guided the end of his cock to Jezabel's ass, holding it still as he pressed slowly inside.

Jezabel hissed as his body began to open to the intrusion; sometimes his 'lovers' would prepare him, sometimes they wouldn't, and it always burned terribly.

"Relax, child, it's going in one way or another so you might as well relax," Alexis murmured, far too collected for someone pushing their cock into their sons tight, wet channel. Jezabel breathed out slowly, then cried out as the ridge of the head lodged firmly inside him, causing his body in instinctively swallow up another inch or so. Jezabel panted, clawing at the bedspread below him, groaning as Alexis spread his legs further, raising his left higher to get better access.

"I told you, child, to look," he growled behind him in his ear. "Look at what I'm doing to you."

Reluctance flooded him as passionately as arousal, but Jezabel, desperate for approval, did as he was told. From this angle, he could easily see his father's thick shaft disappearing one centimeter at a time into his waiting body. God it was queer to see what was happening to his body on the outside, and feel it on the inside. He almost stopped breathing as Alexis's length started to put pressure on his gland, his prostate sensitive against the intrusion.

"Feel good, my little whore?" Alexis asked, his own voice finally tarting to sound trained as he pressed the last bit inside. Jezabel just nodded, circling his hips as much he could to try and acclimate his body to being so full, so stressed.

"Yes sir."

Wordlessly, Alexis began to pull out, nearly as slowly; Jezabel wasn't ready for the empty feeling that came when he pulled himself completely free, nor for the shock of him penetrating again, far quicker this time.

"I prefer you this way, Jezabel. You want to dress like a virgin for me, I'll keep you as tight as one." Jezabel only gasped, his fingers back to his chest, pinching his nipple tight between his nails as he watched himself being fucked in the tall mirror. He nodded, agreeing with everything Alexis said. yes, he's a whore,he's a slut, yes it feels good, y...yes, he likes to watch, he likes watching daddy fuck him...! He was behaving so well, he wasn't sure what it was he did to cause Alexis to snap his hand away from his chest.

"Feel here, then, Jezabel," he panted, stilling his own movement. He drew Jezabel's fingers down to his entrance, pressing hem against the swollen, hard flesh of Alexis's cock and the raw, stretched ring of muscle around it. As he felt the slick place where they joined together, Alexis moved again, and Jezabel cried out as he felt his body yield, felt Alexis fill him completely.

"Put them inside, Jezabel."

"...What?" He whispered, so consumed with the pain becoming pleasure that his father's words didn't make sense.

"I said, put them inside. Your fingers."

"...I'm already full," Jezabel stammered, not sure how else to communicate the obvious fact that there was already a very thick, throbbing cock inside him.

Alexis gave another languid thrust. "And? I've told you, Jezabel, as pretty as you are, it would be a pity not to share you. What if I invited Lord. Gladstone over to play with us, hm? How are you going to fit both of us inside at once if you don't practice?"

This image alone was enough to have Jezabel rethinking tonight's entire plan, and wanting out, wanting off his dick, wanting back to his room. A hot hand around his own member stilled him, eliciting a groan as he stroked the dripping head.

"Put them in."

Aware of the dangerous tone of his fathers voice, Jezabel knew he had little choice. Again Alexis paused, stilling himself, and, shaking, Jezabel put pressure to his entrance, right along his fathers cock. It took several tries, as his body was understandably tense, his leg starting to ache in addition, and his opening did not want to allow another intrusion. But with Alexis's hand guiding his own, kissing the back of his neck, he managed to slip his forefinger inside, crying out at the shredding, piercing pain. Alexis was already thicker than Cassandra, and just this addition hurt, the fullest he'd been stretched.

"Another."

Jezabel panted, and wanted to remove his finger, but Alexis held him still.

"Father, I...it hurts already, I cant' do another," he protested, but Alexis just reminded him of his threat.

Tears spilled as he forced a second finger inside himself, and as Alexis pressed on his hand, forcing them deeper inside. The only consolation was how the pressure curled them against his prostate, proving a small distraction from the agony. 

"There's my good boy," Alexis praised, smiling in his reflection. He kissed Jezabel's cheek, wiped away a tear, and began fucking him quick, deep, and thorough.

"Ah!" Jezabel cried breathlessly against the onslaught, keeping his fingers firmly in place inside him, feeling Alexis's cock against his knuckles, each thrust pressing his fingertips into his prostate. despite the pain of being so open, despite the humiliation of being forced to watch this before him, he couldn't help it. he'd been teased too long, and just a few moments later, he all but screamed as he came, staining the bedclothes with hot ropes of semen, more pumping out with each abusive thrust to his prostate. He panted through his orgasm, and through the spasms that followed, till Alexis groaned through his own climax, emptying himself deep inside Jezabel. Only once he withdrew did Jezabel feel it safe to remove his own fingers, wincing at how loose and sore he felt between his aching legs.

"Satisfied?" Alexis asked breathlessly as he collapsed behind Jezabel, catching his breath. "Did you get what you wanted?"

Jezabel said nothing for several minutes as they both recovered. He hurt. He was fairly sure he was bleeding. He was covered in sweat, he could feel come dripping out of his ass...but he was warm. He was in fathers arms, no matter how briefly.

"...Yes sir. Thank you."


End file.
